


Sling Shot

by astudyinfic



Series: Blood is Thicker Than Water [7]
Category: SPECTRE (2015), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, M/M, Q needs to stop teaching the six year olds about projectiles, parent teacher conferences, parent!00Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5225564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When James and Q get called in for a parent-teacher conference for their twins, Q assumes the worst.  About James.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sling Shot

Q ran his hand through his hair, nerves bubbling up as they stood outside the room.  All around them were crayon drawings and James was busy looking over each and every one of them, wanting to find the two drawn by their boys.  He looked so calm and relaxed, bent over admiring the art of primary students and Q hated him at that moment.  How could he be so calm while Q was trying to keep himself from having a meltdown?

Of course, James wasn’t the one taking a licensed assassin to their sons’ parent-teacher conference.  James wasn’t the one hoping that the wrong thing wasn’t said that would send his spouse over the edge.  James was a loving father, attentive and hands-on, but he was also very proud of his boys and if they heard something bad here today, Q wondered how James would react and how he would smooth things over with the teacher.

“Misters Bond?” came a voice from the room and James straightened up, walking directly into the room with a terse nod at the teacher.  She smiled at Q, the parent she had been dealing with all year and followed him into the room.  

Taking a seat where he could see everything in the room, James sat first and Q followed his lead with a slight smile to the teacher.  “Ms. Victor, it is lovely to see you again.”  

“Mister Bond, it’s wonderful to see you again.  And Mister Bond, I have heard so much about you from Charley and Harry.  I’m pleased to finally meet you.”  Q held his breath but honestly didn’t know why.  Charming people was James’ job and he wasn’t about to turn it off just because they were on their personal time.

“I see the boys were not exaggerating when they spoke of how beautiful their teacher is,” James smiled, standing slightly to take her hand.  “I trust our sons have been doing well.” There was a hint of a threat in the words, and Q had to turn away so that she wouldn’t see him roll his eyes at the way she swallowed heavily.  He threw James a glance that read “ _Every time? Really James?”_ before looking back at her.

Composing herself, Ms. Victor nodded.  “Both of your boys are exceptional students.  Second to none when it comes to numbers and language. Do they have a private tutor for French because I know this school doesn’t offer it until they are older?”  Q preened under the praise, proud of his children.  The boys were biologically his so he really had no doubt that they would excel in maths, but the French was all Bond’s doing.

“Oui,” Bond smiled, shifting forward in his seat.  “Moi.”  Q shivered, loving the way those syllables sounded on his lover’s tongue but forced himself to focus.  “It is easier for them to learn now when they are young.  I do not understand why language training begins so late.”

She swallowed again and nodded, “It is something you are free to bring up with the administration.  But their language skills were not what we needed to discuss.  Pulling an officially looking file across the desk, she opened while Q gave a warning glance at James. Whatever they needed to talk about, James needed to stay calm.  They couldn’t have a repeat from their nursery school.  Finding a new school this late in the year would be a headache Q didn’t want.

“Harry is a really good boy and I think he could get along with the other kids quite well if it wasn’t….” She trailed off, looking over at James who had gone quite still aside from one finger twitching.  “Well, it seems Charley has a knack for destruction and his brother seems quite happy to go along with it.  We’ve lost a few blackboards to the two of them and it is getting a little out of control.”  Q snorted, slapping a hand over his mouth, trying to contain his laughter.  The boys might be biologically his, but there was no doubt that James was an important influence on them.  

James’ voice had turned to ice as he spoke, “And how are our  _six-year-old children_  destroying blackboards?” Q knew after this meeting they would need to have the discussion about proper time and place for using the “licensed killer tone” as he liked to call it.  And maybe fewer bedtime stories about the things James has blown up over the years.

“That’s the thing.  Slingshots are quite popular with all the students right now and they have been making them out of rubber bands.  They spend their recess shooting small balls of paper at each other.  Harmless fun, really.  Your two boys, however, appear to have modified the design so to speak. We aren’t sure how but the little rubber band shooters they have are capable of embedding pens and paperclips into the blackboards.  No children have bene hurt yet, but you can see why we are concerned.”  Q slowly turned to look at James who was staring him down, a sly smile on his face and Q realized the tables had just turned on him.

_Shit_.  Maybe the boys were more like him than he realized.

“Thank you, Ms. Victor,” he said hurriedly.  “We will be sure to have a talk with them as soon as we get home. Thank you again for bringing this to our attention.”  He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  “Come on, James, we must be going.”  The room felt like it was closing in under the weight of James’ amused stare and Q needed to get out of there now.

On his way out, Q heard James exchange a few last words with the teacher.  “I promise you, this will be taken care of.  Someone may have to lose access to his computer tonight, but I promise, you won’t have this problem again.  Will she,  _dear_?”  Q shook his head and scrambled out of the room, bag containing his laptop clutched tight to his chest.


End file.
